Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) - By Devon Ashley Page 0,67
in his throat. He senses me watching, and his smile is infectious.
“You know that song?” I ask. Duh, Rosalie. Maybe whacking myself in the head wasn’t such a good idea after all – but at least I can blame my stupidity on whatever head trauma I caused.
“Yeah. My mother used to sing it to me as a child. It took me a while to remember the words though. You’ve been singing parts of it in your sleep for awhile now, and it was driving me nuts that I couldn’t remember the words. It was always right on the tip of my tongue. They finally came to me yesterday when you were humming it in your sleep again.”
Lying against his firm chest is so perfect, I can’t help but reach my arms around his body and really snuggle in tight. He doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, his head bends to gently rest atop mine. I gasp quietly inside myself, little sparks of energy popping throughout my abdomen and chest. My heart feels like it’s trying to flip, fighting hard to break its tethers so it can join in the celebration.
We’d been so good to minimize contact since my moan sent him fleeing. But I don’t care anymore. If he’s not going to run from me right now, then I’m going to soak up as much physical contact as he’s willing to give.
I’m suddenly aware that my back is tingling with a numbing sensation. I groan, and elongate my neck to bury my eyes into his neck, too afraid to check the condition of my wings. Timidly, I whisper, “Did they hurt my wings again?”
I already know the answer.
His chest expands beyond normal lung capacity. Once it slowly releases the superfluous air, he quietly replies, “You were unconscious, so Finley didn’t stick around this time. Guess if he can’t watch you scream, he can’t get off on it.” His arms tighten, bringing our abdomens more flush. “Anyway, spriggans aren’t book smart. Most can’t even count. I did the count silently in my head and once I thought they did enough not to question, I told them to stop.” His upper hand sways back and forth, his fingers brushing the skin on my arm in soft, random patterns. “I’m sorry, Rosalie. I wish I could’ve stopped them completely.”
“How many?”
He knows exactly what I mean. “Thirty-two.”
I moan, and not in the pleasurable way that removed his hands in the past. If anything, his body is trying its best to cover as much of my body as possible, as if it could protect me or something. “How long was I out?”
“Four days.”
Now it’s my turn to overfill my chest. Four days? “Seriously, how bad is it?” Jack extends the length of our sway. After several passes, I urge, “Jack?” He continues to ignore my request, and when my head fearfully rotates toward my back, he presses my head firmly into his chest.
“I’m getting you out of here, Rosalie. And soon. Finley’s not getting another chance at your wings. Okay?”
I try to nod, but his grip is immobilizing. And like a fool pixie crushing on an unattainable faerie, I allow myself to be smothered to sleep by his protective grip.
Once again I awake like a baby cradled in Jack’s arms – and I love it. It saddens me that it took the devastation of watching my wings broken again for him to let go of everything holding him back, but I’m grateful he has. Even if friendship is all we can share, it warms my heart that there’s someone out there that will seriously miss me if my life’s hour glass came to drop its last grain of sand.
And I can’t believe I’m saying that about a faerie. Especially since his kind is responsible for wrongfully imprisoning me.
“What time is it?” I ask, my head swaying and my eyes heavy from grogginess.
“I don’t know.”
I give in to desire and allow my head to rest on his warm chest again. “You didn’t go home last night?”
“Nah,” he says, following it up with a yawn.
“Won’t your family notice you’re missing?”
I feel the rise in his shoulders when he shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m the child that misbehaves, remember? They probably figure I’m with Bastian or one of my other buddies. They won’t really worry unless I don’t come home again tonight.”
“Must be nice,” I mutter. “I doubt my Hollow so much as batted an eyelash when I went missing.”